


stars to dust; dust to stars

by cassandor



Series: constellations [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, I wrote this and then found out about THAT panel in the comic, Pre-Canon, Saw attempts parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-09 00:05:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11092728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassandor/pseuds/cassandor
Summary: a long, long time ago, when jyn met cassian. also for @rebelcaptainprompts prompt 12: distraction





	stars to dust; dust to stars

At eleven years of age, Jyn Erso’s feet still couldn’t touch the floor of the transport. The restraining belt dug into her stomach as she swung her legs back in forth, too-big boots scuffing against the floor.  

The transport shudders as it enters the atmosphere and Jyn hears voices in the cockpit - the door slides open and Saw steps out. Jyn catches a glimpse of the streaking stars of hyperspace.  

“Jyn,” he says, crouching down beside her. “Are you aware of who we’re about to meet?”

“The other Rebels,” she answers, “The Rebel Alliance.” 

Saw nods. “And what are our differences?” 

Jyn wets her lips. “Inaction. They’re distracted by…” she blinks rapidly, looking for the right word. “ _Diplomacy_. And that’s giving the Empire an advantage.”

Saw stands up, drawing himself to his full, imposing height. But then he leans over and pats Jyn on the shoulder. “Good,” he says. “Now I’m going to bring you in with me, because it’s time you see the other perspective.”

Jyn nods, and Saw straightens up and goes back into the cockpit.

* * *

The meeting was a lot of squabbling and not much else. 

Jyn watched warily as Saw and some of the longest-serving Partisians exchanged thinly-veiled pleasantries with the heads of the Rebellion. She lost interest fairly quickly as they seemed to keep saying the same things over and over again, just with different words, and soon a louder volume. 

Instead, she’s soon distracted by the various beings in the room. First there was a tall, graceful-looking lady she soon found out was Mon Mothma, who Saw seemed both frustrated with and respectful of at the same time. Then there was Senator Bail Organa, who Jyn surprisingly found exuded a calming aura despite the building tensions around him. At his side was the little girl - even younger than herself - watching the proceedings with interest, hair in immaculate twin buns. Jyn catches herself subconsciously swiping at her rowdy bangs, suddenly aware of her grimy clothes and unkempt appearance, the dust on her boots. 

Her eyes kept flitting across the many, many faces crowded around the table but she found herself being drawn back to the same person. 

He’s standing in the shadows, but to her he stuck out like a sore thumb. She can’t pinpoint his age but he’s definitely younger than the other members of the Rebellion - despite being almost as tall as his superiors, his face gives away his youth. 

But the thing that continually pulls her gaze towards him was the look on his face. 

The first time she looked over, he looked detached, bored even, but when she paid closer attention she realized he was acutely focused on the conversation, something flickering in his eyes. The second time - after a Twi’lek had insinuated that Saw was _incapable_  of leadership, eliciting shouts of protest from the Partisans - her eyes shifted over to his mask of indifference, and she wondered what he was thinking.

She glances at him a few more times, making a game out of figuring out what the boy might’ve been thinking, what thoughts were hidden behind those eyes that twinkled like stars. She’s so absorbed in her little game that it takes her a while to realize that the boy was staring back.

She blinks, visibly startled. The boy gives her a small smile before his eyes flicker back to the heart of the debate - this time it’s Maia pointing angrily across the table - drawing her gaze with it.

* * *

They’re well on their way back to their base when Saw crouches down by Jyn’s seat once again. 

“So what did you learn today?” 

Jyn blinks slowly, choosing her words carefully. “The Rebellion just argues around a table all the time in the name of democracy, and it slows down their decision making ability, weakening them.” 

“What else?”

Saw waits, then sighs when Jyn doesn’t respond. “If you’re going to let a boy distract you this much, maybe you’re not fit to be a Partisan.”

Shame burns in Jyn’s stomach. Saw was insinuating something else - Jyn was reeling from the shock that, for one, he had noticed how distracted she was, and two, he apparently thought it was due to something like attraction - and soon the burning feeling in her chest was _anger_ , not shame. 

Anger at herself for letting her focus slip, anger at the boy for existing, anger at Saw for assuming she was _that_  kind of person. She lets the fury boil in her veins, clenches her fists to her sides - and then remembers _where_  she is, _who_ she is, and who she was talking to. 

Her head dips in shame, eyes fixed on her dusty boots, her fists unfurling. “It won’t happen again,” she mumbles, her standard apology, words tiptoeing around Saw’s temper. “I will do better.” 

Saw stands up, his shadow towering over hear.  “Good,” he says. “Don’t let this happen again.” 

Jyn watches Saw leave, the face of the boy already disappearing from her memory. 

“I won’t,” she whispers at his disappearing figure.


End file.
